


Tales of Roundup Ranch

by jessiejanelightyear



Category: Toy Story (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27538900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessiejanelightyear/pseuds/jessiejanelightyear
Summary: A collection of one-shots and other short stories, set in the historical AU world of Jessie’s Journey: Or, How a Girl Chased her Dreams West.
Relationships: Bo Peep/Woody Pride, Jessie/Buzz Lightyear
Kudos: 4





	1. February 1903

**Author's Note:**

> Well... even though the main Jessie's Journey fanfic isn't quite complete yet (just one more chapter to go, with some research still to do), one of the stories for this one-shot series was, so I thought I'd get it published a little earlier than planned! There won't be anything in that final chapter of the main fic that this is a spoiler for, so I figured maybe this could help fill the gap while I work on the other.
> 
> I'm going to be using this Roundup Ranch series as a place to post random one-shots (or maybe the occasional two-parter) that take place in the world established in Jessie's Journey. I love these characters too much to just stop writing about them, and I'm forever thinking up scenarios for them, so this is a way to keep that going. Plus, it gives me the freedom to jump around in time without having to stick to a strict timeline - all stories will still take place between the 1890s and 1920s, though. Each chapter will be titled with the month and year. I'm looking forward to exploring the kids at different ages, spending more time in their everyday lives, and taking the family on some new adventures!
> 
> While Jessie's Journey was co-written with PoetLaurie, this one is going to be written primarily by me. She still may be my sounding board on elements of the stories here and there, and this first chapter is one that she contributed to a while back. Any substantial co-author credits in future work will be mentioned in the notes. And I'll be adding pins on Pinterest for these stories, too - this one doesn't really need any, it's pretty self-explanatory, so I'll make note where to find them when I get to a chapter that needs illustrations.
> 
> As always, Toy Story doesn't belong to me. If it did, we'd be getting a 25th anniversary special like we did for the 20th back in 2015. Enjoy, and be sure to subscribe and bookmark so you don't miss any updates!

Winter was starting to give way to spring on Roundup Ranch, and with the bright, warmer days came the promise of new calves in the Prides’ dairy herd and a bountiful crop in the Lightyears’ orange grove. 

In anticipation of calving season, Woody made an exciting announcement to his young family. Penny, Bea, and Andy - who were seven, five, and four, respectively - would each get to name a newborn calf and take care of it as their very own. The little children quickly decided on Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail as the names for their prospective calves, _The Tale of Peter Rabbit_ having been a gift to them the previous Christmas and a favorite bedtime story with their father. 

“No Peter, please,” Woody had interjected during the naming discussions, thinking back to his Marshal days and the Calico case against Stinky Pete. 

The three little Prides anxiously awaited the day they could each see their new baby animals. Once born, they visited them often in their individual pens in the barn; and after the calves had been trained by Woody and Slink in how to drink their milk from pails, the children were guided by the men in how to feed them, as well as gently brush them. Looking at it as more of an adventure than a lesson in responsibility, Penny, Bea, and Andy eagerly followed after their father and the ranch foreman, doing whatever they could to help - Bea, especially, was becoming attached to the young Jersey cow that was in her charge. 

Early one morning, not long after the children had begun their caretaking of the calves, Bo rolled over in bed, and her eyes fluttered open as she tried to process a sound she wasn’t quite certain she heard. Laying silently in the predawn darkness, she soon heard the mysterious noise a second time. 

“Was that a cow?” When Woody didn’t rouse, she nudged her husband’s shoulder. "Honey, did you hear that moo?" 

"I'm always hearing moos," he mumbled groggily, his eyes still closed. 

"No, it was a louder one. Are the windows open? Did one get out in the night?” Bo sat up in bed, and her brow dipped as she listened intently. “There it is again. I swear it sounds like it's coming from the house." 

Woody didn’t answer. With a frustrated groan Bo rose from the bed, sliding her feet into her slippers and grabbing her dressing gown as she exited into the hall. Moments later, a shout finally jolted Woody from his peaceful repose.

"BEATRICE ROSE PRIDE WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!?"

Woody flew out of bed and rushed to his daughters’ bedroom, his hair mussed, dressed in the longjohns he had been sleeping in. Standing in the doorway slack jawed, he was as dumbstruck as his wife. “Is that a cow?”

“That most certainly is a cow. In the house. Upstairs, no less!” 

Woody ran his fingers through his hair, trying not to lose his temper. “Bea, what’s this all about?”

Next to five-year-old Bea, a young calf lay curled up in her bed. The little girl stared back at her parents, equally perplexed by their reaction as they were by her companion. “Mopsy was lonely in the barn by herself.”

Bo exhaled heavily. “I’m sure she wasn’t lonely, with all the other cows to keep her company.”

“But Daddy said she was _my_ cow. I want to be with her. Buster sleeps with Penny.” 

“Buster’s a dog, sweetheart. That’s different,” her father tried to explain. 

Bea cocked her head. “How come?”

While Woody and Bo attempted rather unsuccessfully to reason with their stubborn child, Penny slipped out of her own bed, out of the house, and over to her aunt and uncle’s house next door. The ring of the doorbell was answered by Buzz, wearing his robe and a very concerned expression.

“Penny, what’s wrong? Is someone sick, or hurt?”

“No, but Daddy might need help. Bea brought a calf into the house!" 

"Oh, that’s good,” Buzz let out the breath he’d been holding. “Wait, what?"

“Daddy’s trying to lead it down the stairs, but it won’t go!”

“I think your Daddy knows how to handle a calf. He can always carry it.”

Jessie appeared behind her husband on the stair landing, tying the belt of her dressing gown and chuckling at the conversation she was overhearing. Just then, Memo shuffled out of his room and toward the top of the stairs in his pajamas, rubbing tired eyes. Jessie reached to pick up her sleepy, four-year-old son, who was taking the steps slowly down to meet her. “Well, since we’re all up, might as well see this circus for ourselves. C’mon!” 

When the Lightyears arrived with Penny at the Prides’, and saw the scene that was unfolding in the hall, Buzz and Jessie couldn’t help but smirk at each other. Woody was positioned in front of the befuddled calf on the stairs, trying with all his might to lure it downwards. 

“Need a hand, cowboy?” Buzz said with a tickled grin. 

“I’m fine,” groaned Woody. “If Bea got her to go up, why won’t she go down?”

Bo sighed from where she stood upstairs, with her three children watching nearby. “I told you, honey, just carry her down.”

“What if she kicks the wall?” 

“Plaster can be repaired, but we can’t live with a cow in the house forever.” 

Defeated, Woody stooped and picked up the calf without a struggle, its spindly legs dangling. Quite a sight in his long underwear and cowboy boots, he trudged down the stairs, through the hall, and out the kitchen door in the direction of the barn. Bea tried to go after him, but Bo looked at her daughter sternly, and shook her head. 

“D’ya need any help cleanin’ up?” Jessie called up to her sister-in-law. 

“No, all there is to do is change muddy sheets and wipe up these tracks on the floor - and figure out what to do with this one,” Bo let out an exasperated laugh as she gestured to troublemaker Bea. “Thank you, though.”

“Good luck!” replied Jessie with a chuckle, then she kissed the red-haired head nestled against her shoulder. “Let’s get you back home, bud. We’ve got a funny story to tell Grampa after breakfast.” 

* * *

Several days later, a freshly-dressed Bo went to peek in her children’s rooms before heading downstairs to start her morning chores. After first looking in on Andy, who wasn’t yet awake, she then nudged the girls’ door open a crack, only to find that while Penny lay sound asleep, Bea’s bed was empty. Confused, she checked her vacant sewing room, then hurried downstairs, but all the lights were still off and there was no sign of her daughter. In a panic she raced back upstairs to make sure her eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on her, but Bea’s single-sized metal-frame bed was most definitely unoccupied. 

“Woody!” she cried to her husband, who was shaving in the bathroom across the hall, “is Bea in there with you?”

“No,” was the muffled reply through the half-closed door. “Why?”

“Bea’s not here!”

He darted into his daughters’ room, his face still half-covered in shaving-soap suds. “What do you mean she’s not here?!?” 

“Look!” she pointed frantically at the pushed-aside sheets and quilt. “I searched the whole house. She’s nowhere to be found!” 

“What’s the matter, Mama?” Penny propped herself up on her elbows, half asleep. 

“Do you know where Bea is, sweet pea?” Bo pleaded. 

“Uh uh,” the girl shook her head. “She was here when I fell asleep.” 

Woody snapped his suspenders up over his tucked-in work shirt, and rested a hand on the small of his wife’s back. “You stay here. I’ll go look for her.” He stepped back into the bathroom long enough to wipe the dwindling bubbles off his chin, then hastened down the stairs, where he found the back door unlocked and instantly had a hunch where his wayward daughter might be.

He was striding across the backyard, headed toward the barn, when he saw Slink silhouetted against the rising sun, coming his way with something in his arms. 

“Lookin’ for somethin'?” his friend grinned widely. “I found this strange calf in the barn this mornin’; pretty sure she belongs to you.” He nudged the blanketed bundle he carried, and a drowsy face appeared. 

“Bea!” Woody reached out to take his daughter, and hugged her close as she nuzzled against her father’s shoulder. “We were so worried about you! What were you doing in the barn?” 

“You said Mopsy couldn’t sleep with me in my bed, so I slept with her in hers,” the little girl explained simply, her voice thick in her barely-awake state. 

Woody smiled at Bea, then exchanged an amused look with Slink. “Hey, thanks,” he said to his friend, glancing at the silhouette of Bo moving about the kitchen. “You wanna come in for some coffee before we get to work?”

Slink waved his hand in dismissal, “Naw, thanks, I already had my fill at my place. See ya shortly?”

With a nod, Woody returned to his house, where Bo met him at the door, ecstatic in her relief. “Oh, Bea, min älskling!” she caressed her daughter’s strawberry blond curls, then turned to her husband. “Where on earth was she?”

“I’ll give you one guess,” he laughed, stepping over the threshold. 

Bo's fingers brushed a piece of hay in Bea’s hair, and she instantly knew. “The barn?” 

“Yup. Slink found her with Mopsy.” The couple fought to suppress the mirth that threatened to overtake them. 

Bea looked up at her mother, blinking at the light in the kitchen, and Bo smiled softly. “Little girls are supposed to sleep in their own beds. You gave Mama and Daddy a terrible fright.” 

The child reached up to rub her tired eyes. “But what if she misses me?”

“She’ll be fine; she’s got plenty of cow friends in the barn,” Woody soothed. “It’s not safe for you to sleep out there, little miss.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Bea yawned.

“C’mon,” he adjusted his daughter’s limp weight in his arms, “let’s get you upstairs.”

Once Bea was cozy in her bed, Woody joined Bo in the kitchen, where she was finishing her preparations for breakfast. As he grabbed a cup from the shelf and filled it with some of the piping hot coffee that had been brewing on the stove, she looked at him askance. “ _Your_ daughter.” 

He placed his free hand over his heart in mock surprise and hurt. “MINE? Although... I s’pose I can blame the Pride side a little,” he chuckled. “She’s got an awful lot of Jessie in her, that one, between her spunk and her love for critters. Shoulda known with the hair.” 

“Don’t blame your sister,” laughed Bo. “I suppose there’s no harm in having one who keeps us on our toes.” 

Woody slipped an arm around his wife’s waist and kissed her on the temple. “I’ll head out to the store this afternoon and pick up some chain locks for the doors.”


	2. December 1903

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with another one-shot! I'm still in the process of researching details for the last chapter of the main Jessie's Journey fic, but when I finally get it done and posted, you'll understand why it's been taking me so long. In the meantime, this one came about thanks to a 1903 ad I saw online, for General Electric's Christmas tree lights. Sometimes all it takes is one little spark of inspiration to get your mind going - and it's been nice to just write something quick and fun. I wanted to get this posted before the Christmas season was completely behind us!
> 
> I've created a Tales of Roundup Ranch section on my Jessie's Journey Pinterest board (under username yodelincowgirl). There are a few pins on it for this chapter, with images that will help illustrate the story, so be sure to take a look!
> 
> Toy Story still isn't mine. If it was, we'd have more than just one still from the new Lightyear movie - but hey, isn't it great to have something new in the works? Enjoy, and don't forget to bookmark and subscribe so you don't miss out on future adventures!

Christmas was in the air as the Lightyear family strolled leisurely down State Street, admiring the festive displays that filled storefront windows to lure shoppers inside with their affirmations of perfect holiday gifts. When the trio came upon a dry goods store known as The Fair, something caught Buzz’s eye, and he paused. 

“What didja find?” Jessie asked, while a curious Memo stood on tiptoe next to his father, peering through the glass. 

Buzz’s gaze remained transfixed. “Electric light festoons for Christmas trees. I had read Edison was coming out with a home outfit this year.”

Jessie smirked at the childlike wonder in her husband’s eyes. “C’mon, let’s go in; you can check ‘em out. I wouldn’t mind not havin’ to worry about the candles for a change.”

Buzz opened the shop door for his family and they entered, Memo immediately pulling his mother’s hand in the direction of the toys. She tightened her grip on the impatient four-year-old, then turned to her husband. “Why don’tcha go find the lights, and I’ll take him to pick out presents for his cousins?” 

The couple went their separate ways, but it wasn’t long before Jessie noticed Buzz heading toward her, a wrapped parcel in his hand and broad grin on his face. She smiled. “So, didja get ‘em?” 

“Yeah, enough to decorate a good-sized tree,” he answered proudly. 

“That’s good.” Jessie looked down as Memo tugged at her skirt. “I think that’s what _you_ want, bud; let’s see if there’s a fun game for Bea instead,” she laughed and set down the little tin automobile her son had held up to her, then again addressed her husband. “How much were they?”

“Heh,” Buzz let out a nervous chuckle, “around twelve dollars.”

Jessie’s eyes widened and her voice raised in shock. “TWELVE DOLLARS?!?!?”

“Shhhhh!” he held out his hand to silence his wife, glancing around the store in the hope that no one had heard her outburst.

“Sweet mother of Abraham Lincoln, Buzz! What in tarnation were ya thinkin’? We still have Christmas shoppin’ to do!”

“It’s fine, Jessie,” he soothed, eager to change the subject. “Did you find any good presents?”

“We were startin’ to,” she shifted her grasp on the storybook and boxed tea set she was holding, “but can we afford to buy anythin’ else now?”

“Of course we can. Here, let me.” He took her selections from her, wanting to be helpful in light of the upset he’d inadvertently caused. “Let’s finish what we came to town for.”

Presents were chosen for the Pride children, to supplement those that had already been purchased for other friends and relations, and the family stopped by the Pioneer Meat Market next door to order their turkey for Christmas dinner as well. The Lightyears’ drive home was a rather quiet and tense one, however - the adults’ silence broken only by the occasional random exclamations of Memo’s excitement for Christmas.  Jessie continued to stew over the price of the new lights, and as they neared their ranch, her husband bravely broached the subject, in an attempt to smooth things over.

“They’ll last for years, you know, and with no more expense. We’ll save what we would have been spending on candles for the tree.”

“A box or two’a candles don’t cost twelve dollars,” Jessie muttered. 

A few more moments of silence passed before he dared speak again. “And then there’s safety. You said yourself that you wouldn’t mind not worrying about the risks with candles. Think of how much more fun it’ll be for Memo, when he’s not constantly being reminded to be careful. And we won’t have to scold Ranger for always drinking out of the water bucket.”

“I s’pose,” she sighed. “But I still ain’t comfortable with how much they cost.”

“It’ll be worth it, florecita,” he smiled softly. “You’ll see.” 

* * *

When the family returned home from the Lightyear hacienda on Christmas Eve, Buzz was just as full of anticipation as his young son, who was being hastened upstairs to bed so Santa Claus could make his long-awaited appearance. As Jessie stood in the parlor doorway, Buzz bade the exuberant little boy goodnight.

“Night night, Daddy!” Memo flung his arms around his kneeling father. “Santa’s coming tonight!”

“Yes, he is,” Buzz chuckled, returning the embrace and planting a kiss on the top of Memo’s tousled red curls. “And I have to stay downstairs, just in case he needs any help. You be a good boy for your Mama, and go right to sleep.”

“Okay!” In a flash, the child flew past his mother, who cast an amused smirk in the direction of her husband before following up the stairs with Ranger at her heels. 

Jessie arrived back downstairs an hour later, with the box of Christmas tree decorations she had retrieved from the attic, and found Buzz sitting on the floor, surrounded by strings of lights. “How’s it goin’?”

“I think I’ve got the three strands connected,” he set down the instruction pamphlet that had come with the kit, “and I put on both the white and red lamps like you wanted.” Then he stood, holding the end with a ceramic and brass plug on it. “I just need to get this screwed into the chandelier, if you’ll help.” 

She held the light strands while Buzz carefully climbed on a stool to twist the plug into the lamp socket. He had already removed the lightbulb closest to the tree while his wife had been upstairs, so it didn’t take long before the lights were aglow in all their electric splendor - small, round, incandescent bulbs shining in alternating colors. 

“I’ll admit, they’re awful pretty,” Jessie remarked, as Buzz stepped down from the stool and cast his wife a sideways smirk. The couple worked together to encircle the stately fir Buzz had placed in its stand the day prior, and when they were finished they stood back to admire their handiwork. Satisfied, Jessie turned away from the tree to retrieve their tinsel garland and ornaments. She was distracted from the task by her husband’s raised voice.

“Blast!”

Jessie spun around to see Buzz staring at the tree, most specifically the lowest strand that was no longer lit. Her brow furrowed. “What happened? They were fine a minute ago.”

“I don’t know.” He picked up the instructions from where he had left them on the floor, scrutinizing them before moving back to the tree to address the problem. 

“Well, I’m gonna go get Memo’s gifts while ya figure it out.” Jessie disappeared back up the stairs; however when she returned, her husband had made no more progress with the uncooperative strand than before she had left. She set aside the white tissue paper-wrapped parcels, tied in colorful ribbons, and puzzled as she looked at the half-lighted tree. “Still no luck?” Buzz shook his head, and she sighed. “I gotta get his stuff from Santa. I’ll be right back.”

Again, she found her husband unsuccessful at solving the mystery, and now visibly flustered. “I just can’t get this one strand to light up,” he groaned, as he stooped and fiddled with the bulbs, his hair hanging unkempt against his forehead “I’ve checked every single lamp, and still nothing.” 

Jessie laid the bundle of toys next to the wrapped presents. “We hafta get these workin’ so we can put up the rest of the decorations; it’s past midnight. Lemme see.”

Buzz threw up his hands in defeat. “I’ve tried everything, but go ahead.”

Jessie approached the tree and ran her fingers along the fabric-covered cording that connected the lights. She twisted each miniature bulb in its socket on the faulty strand, confirming that they were indeed secure. She then reached around to the junction box, and took hold of the pronged end of the prior strand. With a push and a click, the troublesome lights again came to life.

Buzz gawked, astonished, at his wife’s accomplishment. “What did you do?” 

“It musta come undone while we were drapin’ it on the branches. Didn’t ya check the connection?”

“Nooo,” he confessed awkwardly, “I just figured it had worked before...”

“So did the lamps,” she laughed. “C’mon, let’s get the rest’a this done before it’s Christmas mornin’, and our bud is up before we’ve had any sleep!” 

* * *

Christmas dawned on Roundup Ranch, and an excited Memo rushed downstairs to see what treasures awaited him beneath the tree. The little boy gazed starry-eyed at the magical lights his Daddy turned on with the flip of a switch, and when all their presents had been opened, Jessie made breakfast and began the preparations for the family feast she was hosting later in the day. Before long, the neighboring Prides’ arrival was announced by its ensuing commotion. 

“Okay, I want to see these newfangled lights you got,” declared Woody, as he and the children headed straight for the parlor, where Buzz was keeping an eye on Memo while Jessie cooked. 

“They look like stars!” Penny gasped in admiration. Her siblings oohed, ahhed, and nodded their agreement, before joining their cousin to investigate his new toys.

Woody sat down on a chair and bent over to scratch Ranger behind the ears. “I suppose they suit you, but we won’t be giving up candles anytime soon.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Bo interjected, as she came into the room to retrieve the youngsters’ outerwear. “The idea of not having to keep a pail of water on hand, or keep these three from getting too close to the tree, sounds mighty appealing.” 

“Pa? You gonna side with them, too?” Woody said to his father, who had seated himself on the sofa next to Buzz.

“Don’t involve me in this debate, son; I’m just here for dinner,” the elder Pride chuckled. “But,” he leaned in to his son-in-law, speaking low, “I’d say those lights look quite nice.” 

As the day progressed, Estrellita and Zechariah also joined the festivities. And later that night, as everyone gathered around the tree, all - including a begrudging Woody - complimented Buzz on his most modern addition to their Christmas decorations. After gifts had been exchanged, relatives had returned home, and a very tired but happy Memo had been tucked into bed, Buzz and Jessie sat snuggled together on the sofa, savoring the last, lingering moments of the holiday. 

Buzz gently lifted his arm from where it rested around Jessie’s shoulder, and kissed her on the forehead before rising to standing. He took his handkerchief from his pocket, folding it and placing it over the hot lightbulbs on the overhead chandelier one by one, loosening them until they turned off while leaving the light strand plugged into its socket. He then did the same with the sconces on the wall, until the only illumination in the room came from the electrified tree, its metallic tinsel rope glittering in the glow of the tiny bulbs. 

“Whatcha doin’?”

“You’ll see.” He stepped over to the phonograph and reached for a cylinder, positioning it on the mechanism. With a few cranks, the soft notes of _La Paloma_ floated out from the flared horn. “Care to dance, florecita?”

Buzz held out his hand; Jessie giggled, but willingly took it as he drew her into his arms. The couple moved slowly across the floor in time with the music. 

The cylinder stopped; and while Buzz removed _La Paloma_ and set it aside, Jessie rested her head on his shoulder. “I reckon these lights _are_ pretty romantic, ‘specially the _red_ bulbs,” she added teasingly, recalling the dresses she’d worn on some of their most memorable occasions. “We couldn’t be dancin’ around the tree if it had candles on it.”

“I told you they’d be worth it.” Buzz turned to face her, and their lips met in a long, slow kiss. When they pulled apart, he grinned. “Should I put on another song?” 

“You betcha.” 

The pair danced in the fairyland of their parlor late into the night. When they finally switched off the lights and headed upstairs, Jessie thought to herself, maybe twelve dollars wasn’t so much after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HISTORICAL NOTES: Edison/General Electric was the first to introduce a home kit of electric light strands for Christmas trees, in 1903 - before this, only the wealthy could afford electric-lit trees, as they had to be custom-wired. $12 might not seem like much today, but adjusting for inflation, it would be around $350 in today’s dollars. Lightbulbs were referred to as lamps. These lights were revolutionary, because before this, Christmas trees were lit with candles, which required a lot of caution to avoid fire. The Fair was an actual dry goods store in Redlands - their ad from the early 1900s lists toys among their wide range of merchandise - and the Pioneer Meat Market was in fact next door. In the late 1800s and early 1900s, trees were often decorated on Christmas Eve, the decorations being part of the gifts brought by Santa. Early electricity in houses usually consisted mostly of fixed lighting, like wall sconces and chandeliers, which is why there is no wall plug for the Christmas tree lights. ‘La Paloma’ is a popular Spanish song that was sold as phonograph recordings as early as the 1890s.

**Author's Note:**

> Dairy calves are separated from their mothers fairly early on, and pail-fed milk so that the dairy farmer has more control of the milk the mama cows produce - as I understand it through my research, that is; I am by no means personally acquainted with dairy farming. 'The Tale of Peter Rabbit' is a children's book by Beatrix Potter that was first published in October 1902, and is still popular today. Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, and Peter are the rabbit children in the classic story. Penny most likely would have been in school at age 7 - five months' yearly attendance was required between ages 6 and 14 - but it was easier not to mention them working around her school day; she would have taken care of her calf in the afternoons. This dilemma was inspired both by a video of a little girl smuggling a cow inside her house and reading that it's extremely difficult if not entirely impossible to get cows to go downstairs, even though they will go up with no trouble. Although I see Woody as being perfectly capable in handling his cattle within his dairy facility, having one in his house just throws him for a loop! XD


End file.
